


As the fire burns

by Doodle_Famous



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fire, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 06:26:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17218676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doodle_Famous/pseuds/Doodle_Famous
Summary: One small mistake is all it takes, A wrong word, a small secret, anything at all. Then everything comes crashing down around us as the world outside burns.





	As the fire burns

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I actually haven't written anything in forever, but here.

“I didn’t mean to!” I scream, tears staining my checks. The world around me tilting slowly. My brain a tornado of panic and fear. A small simple mistake cursed into anarchy. Screaming, I bang loudly on the door.

“Someone! Anyone!” I beg the world outside this one room I’ve been trapped in. My stomach churns as more smoke flood the room. The heat outside burning the wood and my hand. Another round of fear slices through me. My eyes water more, either from my gaging, pure fear, or the stinging smoke. I fall to the ground, coughing loudly. Smoke takes that opportunity to circle me, ingulfing me, causing more coughing. I weakly fall to the ground, my head hitting the wooden door.

“Romano-“ A small voice calls me. Tired and breathy. “Please, come over here.” I glance over, Spain   
stretching his arm towards me. His brown eyes reflect the smoke around us, yet I still find a calm space that I’ve found there for years. His hair, shaggy and all over the place; as if he styled it with the help of a whirlwind.

Glancing to the door for a final time, I crawl over to Spain. I crawl over small debris, everything that has fallen from the floor above. They lit the top floor and the bottom floor, closing any hope for an escape. But, I don’t worry about this the moment I feel Spain pull me close to his chest. His sweater was cocked sideways, slightly hiding a scar that reopened. I pull my legs close, huddling closer. Mostly to avoid hitting Spain’s leg that is currently crushed beneath a large wardrobe that fell over while trying to patch his side wound.

I feel Spain slowly brushing through my short hair. A small gesture that he’s kept since he was my boss. A calming motion that almost distracts me from the hopeless situation we’ve been stuck in. I cough lightly, but Spain doesn’t stop brushing my hair. I can feel my adrenaline crashing. Always at the worst moment too.

“Spain?” I look up to him, finding his eyes closed. Almost as if the weird tomato lover became an angel without me realizing the difference. His long lashes not even lifting as he hums a response. “Tell me that one story again. From when I was younger?”

“Which one?” Spain asked. He kept his eyes closed. Perhaps that smoke has gotten to him already. In the darkness, I couldn’t tell if he was crying or not. He seemed too calm for the situation! But, I can’t bring myself to be cruel. Not now. Not here.

“The Carnation Youth?” I ask softly, barely over a whisper. I can tell Spain smiles softly, hugging me closer.

“Okay, get comfy then” He mutters, coughing ever so slightly. “One day, A father was walking down a path back from fishing. On this path, he found the most beautiful Carnation. So beautiful in fact, he picked it and brought it to his beloved son”

“Son? I thought it was his daughter?” I say, playing along.

“Nope, His son, now listen” He laughs weakly, “His son also thought this carnation was so beautiful that he placed it near his bed, in the most beautiful vase that he could find. Later that night, he took the carnation and held it to a small candle. Unfortunately, the flower caught fire, burning. The image of a young man appeared in his room, asking the son ‘Why don’t you speak to me?’ But the son kept crying in such despair. So, the young man sighed and told him ‘find me in the rocks of the world.’”

“Why is he in the rocked?” I ask, still confused on the point. Above, the room shakes, dropping more debris on the floor. I cough loudly, hiding my face in my arm. The smoke continues to enter the room, flooding the air. I let my eyes close as I rest against Spain’s chest.

“Who know?” Spain hums, “But, the son, so distraught, left his house to find this man. One day he come across the river, of which he collapses out of exhaustion. He cries loudly. A young man appears behind him, ‘What’s the matter?’ The son doesn’t answer but continues to loudly weep. The young man sighs yet again and point across the river and into the woods, ‘Go there and in a house, you will find work.’ So, the son stood and walked in that direction.’

‘The son finds the house as promised and gets hired as a servant, becoming the favorite in the house. The others become jealous and plot many things against the young man.” Spain tells the story, skipping over many details. His words laced with exhaustion. I don’t mention it as he continues. “The mysteries of the household finally get word that the young servant knows a way to break her son’s curse. She sends him to do so, but the Servant doesn’t have any clue how to do so. He walks to the river once more, crying loudly. The young man appears once more, ‘my mother has sent you to break my curse. Get all the young people of the town and let them carry a candle each. Do not let the candle go out, and my curse shall be broken’”

I wave slowly, listening to Spain speak softly. The pounding of his heart a slow rhythm of a lullaby. “So, the young man gathered all the children of the town below, a beautiful conjugation that it was. Each held a candle that night. As the clock ticked closer to evening, they walked towards the river, but the Servant’s candle goes out right as they reach the river. ‘No!’ He cries, ‘I have ruined the chance to break the curse!’ So, the servant wept, even as the young man celebrated. ‘You have broken the curse! I am safe!’ Word spread of the young prince returning from his cursed state as they geared for their wedding. The young son, turned servant, turned prince cured his spells of crying. Instead speaking when he was sad.” Spain finishes the story quickly.

“Hey, Spain?”

“Another story?” He laughs softly, I can tell he’s fighting sleep. I shake my head slowly. I cuddle closer to him, hugging him close to my heart.

“I love you Antonio”

“I love you too, Lovino”

And so, with those words spoken, we slept.

**Author's Note:**

> The Carnation Youth can be found here: https://fairytalez.com/the-carnation-youth/


End file.
